JE created the characters below. Unfortunately, I can't claim to be that creative.
Jenny (JenRar) I also can't claim to be this good of a writer because of all the work you do as the beta. Thank you for the countless hours you've spend correcting my mistakes.
Chapter 12 – The Gift
As far as command performances went, this wasn't the worst one of my life, but that didn't mean I wanted to stay a moment longer than necessary, either. Stephanie had been a good sport about my mother hauling her around the ballroom and introducing her to people as "Anthony's close friend." It was said with a great deal of emphasis on the word close. The women who my mother played bridge with would react with a big smile and some comment about being thrilled to meet the woman who had finally caught the eye of the most eligible bachelor in the area. The daughters of those same women usually stayed silent and gave Stephanie looks that could have set back her recovery from surgery if eyes were capable of inflicting harm.
Of course, while Stephanie was making her way around the room, being introduced to the mafia elite – whether she understood it or not – I was at my father's right hand. Pop never introduced me officially; he would simply put his large hand on my back and say, "Son, you remember…" whoever happened to be standing there. It put me in an elevated position, as I was given the person's name, but they were not given mine, meaning they should already know who I was. I hated these kinds of power games, but I respected the fact that they were a part of my father's life, so I tried to keep quiet.
Once most of the major players had floated past, Guido came over and whispered something to my father. The only response he received was a fast head shake, meaning no.
This type of concise communication was common in my family, so I didn't think much of it until Guido turned to me and spoke. "I would like to meet your guest."
To some people, it might sound like a politely worded request from a man who rarely spoke and was somewhat out of practice at being social. The look on Pop's face told me he'd already been denied and he was trying to trump my father's authority by coming directly to me.
"She isn't here at the moment," I replied dryly, hoping he understood that I wasn't going to overrule what he'd already been told. For the most part, my father and uncle got along, but if they were about to argue over something, there was no way I was getting in the middle of it.
"I owe her a certain debt, and some things are best said in person," he offered as an explanation.
"Tonight is not the time to speak of such things," Pop jumped in when I didn't respond. "My son is able to respect my wishes on this topic, and you need to, as well."
"But my son will one day be a part of this family as well, and I deserve the chance to thank the woman responsible for bringing him to me," Guido argued.
My attention moved to Pop to see how he'd respond to that bit of news. "Vincent has yet to confirm the results to say whether or not Constantine is your son. Until that is sorted, he is still the boy who infiltrated my organization and lied to me. If it is proven that he is yours, then we will discuss what role, if any, he might have around me. To speak of it in definite terms now is too soon."
From the corner of my eye, I knew Stephanie was making her way back to me. It wasn't that I could see her yet, but I could see the wave of party-goers who were appreciating her in that dress, and I knew her movement around the room was nearly complete.
I took my hand out of my pocket as soon as the sapphire color was close enough to see, and as she moved to my side, I held out my arm, allowing her to slide against me and eliminating any distance.
With her head angled so her lips were shielded by my shoulder, she said, "Your mother has some interesting friends, but their daughters don't seem to like me very much."
It was hard to keep from laughing at her understatement. "I don't think it matters who you are; they're just mad their dream of one day taking my mother's place has been shattered, and you're the easiest target for their disappointment."
"Your mother's place?" Stephanie repeated, obviously not catching my meaning.
The trouble with spending so much time around Stephanie was that she made talking so easy, and on more than one occasion, my mouth had opened without my mind having fully vetted what I was about to say. This definitely fell into one of those instances. "Everyone knows my brother is a doctor and will always be a doctor. So, logically, the publically held opinion has always been that one day, I would take my father's place and run the family. If I did that, then my wife would become one of the most powerful women in this circle. There are plenty of women who are vying for that position, not because they give a shit about me but because they want the respect that should go to my wife." Then I laughed a little and explained, "Of course, the joke is on them because I have no plans to take over the family business, so if someone married me, they would need to be satisfied with a normal life in Trenton, married to a guy that believes in having firepower handy and living by a code of honor, not intimidation, and who doesn't have any interest in taking over my father's business."
"That sounds pretty close to ideal to me," she replied softly. Strangely, she was probably the only woman from whom I trusted that statement to be true.
Before I could ask her if she ever saw herself married again, I saw Uncle Guido moving toward us. Pop was tied up talking to someone I didn't recognize, but I could see his less-than-pleased expression. In order to keep there from being some sort of family feud in public, I abruptly turned to Stephanie and asked her to dance. She allowed me to practically pull her to the edge of the dance floor, in the opposite direction of my uncle, and then wrap my arms around her, possibly holding her tighter than was absolutely necessary, but after the first few seconds, I realized I liked how it felt having her against me, so I didn't bother to lessen my grip.
We swayed together to some nondescript slow song, and I realized I had no memory of the last time I'd danced. I knew I'd done it as a kid, and I thought I'd let some old aunt talk me into a few rounds at a family wedding or two, but it had to have been a decade since I'd held a woman like this. Based on my lack of experience, it should have been awkward, but it was just like everything else involving Stephanie: it felt natural – good, even – and I didn't want the song to end.
Just for fun, I spun her away and then pulled her back to me in order to feel her settle against my shoulder once more.
"You're showing off," she pointed out when she came back to me.
I didn't want to agree, but the truth was too obvious to deny. "Maybe a little."
"Dancing with you is fun," she commented, sighing at the end, as though she were enjoying this as much as I was. "Of course, it didn't escape my notice that we're only out here to avoid your uncle. Are you going to tell me what that's all about?"
I used to say if I got married, it needed to be to a woman who had a sharp mind, but now that I'd found a woman who fit that description so well, I realized I wasn't as excited about her keen skills of deduction as I'd thought I'd be. It was hard to keep her off guard enough to be unaware of what was going on with the family dynamics.
I decided there was no point in dodging her question. She'd get pissed that I was hiding stuff from her, and she'd already proven herself more than capable of keeping my family's secrets. "Uncle Guido wants to thank you for piecing together the clues that could mean Constantine is his son. Pop doesn't want it to be spoken of until the blood work from Vincent comes back and either confirms or disproves it. Since Pop told him not to speak to you, I'm trying to help keep the peace by keeping you two apart."
She laughed at that, and before I could ask what was so funny, someone had gotten the drop on me with my defenses down and was tapping on my shoulder to cut in and dance with Stephanie. I turned around, ready to tell whoever it was to piss off, but my brother was standing there with a teasing grin on his face.
"I never thought I'd see the day that I could sneak up on you. You were always the one telling me to be more aware of my surroundings, and now I can finally return the favor."
Something about that comment struck Stephanie as particularly hysterical, because even with her hand over her mouth, I could hear her laughter.
"Keep yucking it up," I told her with a teasingly firm brow, "and I'll ask Vincent for exercise suggestions we can implement beginning early tomorrow morning."
That wiped the grin off her face, which allowed me to bow and walk back to my father's side with a little dignity remaining, leaving her to dance with one of the few men here that I trusted enough to touch her.
Before I got all the way to my parent's table, I could hear my mother telling someone to keep their voice down and then complaining, "You two are twenty years past the age of this kind of petty sibling argument." With that, she spun around and walked over to the dessert table to pick out a second offering
I looked at my father and waited, knowing he'd give in.
"She doesn't understand why your uncle is being so pigheaded about speaking to Stephanie, and then she also doesn't understand why I refuse to allow it."
"You're leaving in a day or two, and I figure I may never have the chance to see her again. Something this big deserves a word of gratitude," Guido argued once more.
"Why wouldn't you see her again?" I questioned, trying to keep my uncle from getting so gloomy, as was his natural manner of thought. This time it was my father rubbing his neck and looking anywhere but at me. "What?"
Pop spoke up first, probably knowing Guido wasn't going to. "We like this one. Hell, we'd love to see her as much as you'd let us. But you aren't exactly known for your long-term relationships. I think he's just saying that if you operate like you usually do, then any day now, you'll come up with a reason why you two would never last, and after you leave the compound, we won't have the chance to speak to her again."
My hand went to my neck, a mirror of the nervous habit Pop had just displayed. "What if I didn't operate like I usually do?"
"Then my quality of life would dramatically increase because your mother would devote all her attention to getting you two married as soon as possible, and then she could start pushing you for grandchildren," Pop chuckled as he answered. Then the smile fell from his face, and he stepped closer, "All kidding aside, are you that serious about this one?"
There was no simple way to answer that question without giving everything away. Finally, I decided my father had always kept my confidences, and I was obviously in way over my head here, so a little parental advice might be helpful. I nodded and then looked at his face in time to see it transform into an expression I'd rarely seen. It was warm, almost proud, and solely focused on me.
"Then what are you going to do about it?" he pushed, asking me the question I was hoping he'd answer for me.
"Take it one step at the time and see what happens, I guess," I answered, hating the feel of the words as I said them.
"No," Pop quickly disagreed. "This woman obviously means something to you because you are willing to change your whole life for her."
Was I? Is that what I was proposing? "I thought my life was going to be more or less the same, except I would be sharing it with Stephanie."
"My boy, when you share your life with the right woman, nothing about it remains the same," Pop advised with a laugh. "The flip side is that you're so happy, you no longer care about the changes."
Happy wasn't a word that anyone had ever used to describe me, but when I glanced back to the dance floor and saw Stephanie and Vincent laughing, I realized that at this moment, despite the confusion about the future, I was happy to be here with her. It seemed like a stretch to think of me feeling this way outside of the party atmosphere, but then, most of the things I felt around Stephanie were beyond what I'd ever expected, so maybe this was possible, too.
When the song ended, Pop reached in his trousers, pulled out something he concealed in the palm of his hand, and then held it out in my direction. "You can start by giving her this," he suggested, slipping a small velvet bag in my hand and telling me, "I brought it with me, hoping to see something that might give me some hope for you. I've watched you flounder alone for far too long, Anthony. Give her a chance to make you happy."
I looked at the small bag, catching a glimpse of something that sparkled inside.
"Remember what Nonna taught you when you give it to her," he added before turning to walk in my mother's direction.
"What was that all about?" Stephanie asked, her face still rosy from the light exercise on the dance floor.
My initial reaction was to tell her nothing, slip the bag back into my pants, and pretend nothing had happened when she was away from me. But when she put her hand on my chest, my hand instinctually covered hers, holding her there.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?" she reminded me.
"Let's get some fresh air," I suggested, pointing to a balcony at the side of the ballroom.
When we walked outside, one of the men my father had brought with him followed us, checked for anyone else, and then moved to the doorway to stand guard.
"Do you always have bodyguards?" Stephanie asked, not missing what had occurred.
"No, but tonight, I decided I'd play nice and keep my parents happy by letting them shadow me. It's not usually necessary, but this is a family function, so there's no harm in being careful," I explained, realizing this had been such a part of my life for so long that I rarely noticed it anymore.
She nodded and then brought me back to the reason I'd sought some privacy by asking, "Now what is it you wanted to talk about?"
I leaned against the railing and opened my legs to pull her to me and hold her close. "I'm so far out of my experience here that I don't even know how to start."
"Try the beginning," she prompted with a sweet smile. "I hear that's the best place to start."
Years of experience holding back my reactions was all that kept me from calling her a smartass for that comment. "I don't have much to recommend me," I started, deciding to just shoot from the hip and see what happened. I was tired of questioning myself and feeling so uncertain of what was going on between Stephanie and me. I was going to jump in the deep end, and we'd either come out swimming, or any hope of us moving past this week together would drown, never to surface again. "I'm quiet and difficult to get to know. I keep every detail about myself tightly held, and the idea of giving someone the power to hurt me goes against every instinct I have."
Her head dipped slightly, but she didn't break eye contact. It was that sign of strength in her that allowed me to keep talking.
"Around you, I talk and share details that you didn't even ask about. I've opened up to you, and I trust you in a way I didn't think I could. You're deep inside me, and if you walk away…it's going to hurt." Damn, I sounded like a woman and was only able to get the words out because I knew there was no chance the guys at RangeMan would ever hear them.
Stephanie lifted a hand from my chest and covered my mouth to stop me from continuing my random ramblings. "I get what you're trying to say. I'm kind of allergic to talking about feelings and personal stuff, too. Maybe it's easy for us to do it together because we both understand where the other person is coming from. In the end, I think what you need to know is that if you walked away from me, it would hurt me, too. I've been trying to come up with reasons to need a security presence so that I'd have an excuse to be around you when we went back home. I'm not going anywhere unless you make me, so I think we're both feeling the same things."
I took her hand from my mouth and kissed her fingertips before moving it back to rest over my heart. "Then in that case, I have something for you," I told her while reaching into my pocket to pull out the little satchel Pop had just given me. As I fully opened the top and tipped it up to dump the contents into my empty hand, I hoped I was right about what was inside and I wasn't about to embarrass myself.
Fortunately, my palm filled with a delicate silver chain that had been cut in such a way that the thin metal caught the light and seemed to glitter as it moved. In a very simple setting, a large pearl was displayed. "This belonged to my Nonna, my father's mother. Her husband gave it to her a few weeks after they met. He knew she was something special and accepted that they needed to get to know each other better before moving into a commitment like marriage, but he wanted a way to show her how he felt about her. Pearls usually stand for innocence," I repeated the words my grandmother had taught me. "I'm giving this to you because that's how I feel about you. It's pure and not something I've ever experienced before. I want you to have this while we get to know each other better to remember that even when I'm quiet and seem to not be doing much, that deep inside me, something is growing, kind of like this pearl did a long time ago."
That was all the sappy shit I could manage, but the way Stephanie's eyes glistened told me it was enough to get my point across.
"That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."
My fingers fumbled a little with the clasp, but I finally managed to get it open and held it up as an invitation for her to let me put it on her. She surprised me by leaning closer to me instead of turning around as I'd expected her to. It took me a couple of tries to get the clasp closed correctly so that it would stay on, but when I pulled my hands away, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful such a simple piece of jewelry looked on her.
While I was distracted admiring just how attractive she was, Stephanie moved even closer, and it wasn't until her mouth was within two inches of mine that I realized what she was about to do. I wasn't the traditionalist that my father was, but there were some things that I felt like the guy should do, and leading the first kiss was definitely one of those things. With that thought, I quickly eliminated the distance and pressed my lips to hers.
Apparently, I was too quick in declaring my girlie moment to be over, because I swear when she opened her lips and let me fully kiss her, there were lights flashing behind my closed eyes, making me think of fireworks. Stephanie let the weight of her body fall against me, which made me moan. The sound seemed to excite her, based on the newfound enthusiasm she unleashed, but it scared me. I was the man who didn't talk, and I sure as hell didn't make any noises. Apparently, where Stephanie was concerned, all my former habits were gone, and I had no idea how to predict my reactions anymore.
Of course, the moment she let out one of the sounds I used to associate with her first bite of a meatball sub from Pino's, I realized how I reacted didn't matter one bit; I just wanted to hear more of that sound, and maybe a little louder the next time. For her part, Stephanie approached kissing the way she did everything – full of fire and passion. I was thankful to be leaning against the railing because I wasn't entirely sure that my knees would hold me with my blood flow so severely compromised.
She managed to find a way to pull back much sooner than I wanted her to, but the fact that she seemed to be breathing harder made me feel pretty damn good, knowing I'd affected her that much.
"How much longer do we have to stay?" she asked, giving me hope that this night was about to get so much better than I'd thought possible.
"If we tell Mom and Pop goodbye, we could leave right now," I told her, hoping she'd be on board with that plan.
"Give me a second," she answered, confusing me. She must have seen that I didn't understand why she seemed so eager to leave one moment and hesitant to take the exit I was offering her next. "I need to pull myself together and calm down, or every person in there is going to know we were out here necking like a couple of teenagers."
I couldn't really remember necking. I'd had a few awkward kisses as an early teen, and then I'd skipped right into sex. Now that I thought about, this was the first time I'd been with someone and so enjoyed the connection of kissing them that I wasn't in a rush to move on. There was no doubt I wanted to move on, but before she pulled away, it hadn't been what I'd been thinking about. I'd been in the moment, and for the first time in my life, I'd felt completely happy with exactly what I had and wasn't thinking of a way to improve it because it had been about as perfect as I could imagine anything on Earth being.
After a moment or two, she nodded and pulled back even more so that she was supporting her full weight and I could follow her example. Unfortunately, while she was pulling herself together, I was thinking about more of what we'd been doing or about moving this whole kissing thing back to my suite in the compound, which would mean even more, and my tux was definitely not lying down as smoothly as it had been. There was no way my parents would miss that reaction.
The sound of Stephanie's laughter proved that giggling is a pretty effective form of birth control, because my body began to lose some of its enthusiasm. "Sorry," she squeaked out an apology. "I wasn't laughing at you exactly. I was more thinking that for once, I might not be the only one that people could look at and instantly know what I'd been doing."
"Come on, funny girl," I said, taking her hand in mine and marveling at how much I liked holding it. "Let's go tell everyone that you've had enough of the party and I want to get you straight to bed."
"At least you're going with the honest approach," she smarted off again. "Maybe we should just tell them we're ready to call it a night."
Her version did sound a little more G-rated, so I quoted her word for word when we got Pop's attention. He looked concerned until his eyes fell to the necklace around Stephanie's neck, and then his worry transformed into joy, "Of course, my boy. Of course." Then he pulled me to him in a one-armed hug and whispered, "Remember, the pearl is supposed to mean innocence. Be careful that you don't take away her ability to wear it anymore."
I refused to let myself blush, but I was pretty embarrassed that my father knew exactly what I was planning on doing. He laughed at what he probably thought was a clever joke and then stepped around me to hug Stephanie. He whispered something in her ear, which made her smile, and when they broke away, I noticed her hand was on the pendant.
"I'll let your mother know," he told me, letting me know that our chances of getting out of here at a reasonable time were much better than they had been. "You two take a limo back and enjoy your…rest."
In order to avoid him making any other attempts to be humorous, I pulled Stephanie back to my side and escorted her to the main doors to finally get away from the crowds and back where it was just the two of us for a while.
I released her hand only long enough to let her climb into the back of the waiting limousine. And once the door closed after I got in, she moved closer so that we were touching once more.
"Would you like the divider up, Mr. Pertucci?" the driver asked the first of the standard questions he usually called out.
I looked down at Stephanie, who seemed to be growing more attractive by the minute, and then I remembered my father's words and my own reflection about never having really necked with a woman before. "You can raise the petition."
"Are we heading back to the compound?" he asked the last question he would need an answer to before giving us our privacy.
"No," I answered, causing Stephanie's head to snap up. "You can drive around for an hour and then head back to the house."
"Of course, sir. I'll stay on the highway to keep the ride smooth," he offered before lifting the divider to finally give us the sensation of being completely alone.
It was almost amusing to watch the questions fly across Stephanie's face as she tried to make sense out of why we'd left the party in such a hurry to just drive around aimlessly. Finally, she found the words she needed to speak. "Are we trying to avoid someone?"
I shook my head no. "This is about you and me. No one else factors into the equation for tonight."
"Then why aren't we going back to the house?" She couldn't stop her need for answers.
"Because I want a chance to experience all things I've missed by being a tight-assed, isolated loner," I replied, knowing it was an accurate description of how I'd behaved, even if it sounded harsh.
Her eyes narrowed, and I wondered if she was about to fuss at me for insulting myself. Then her face seemed to clear, and she grinned. "You want us to make out in the car, don't you?"
"There's no limit to the things I want us to do," I answered. "But right now, I'll try to content myself with some more of what we started on the balcony."
The bottom lip of her mouth disappeared between her teeth while she weighed something before sharing her next thought with me. "Then you need to know something about me."
It seemed kind of late for her to disclose some communicable disease that would foil my plans for the evening. Even still, I waited patiently to see what she thought needed to be confessed at this moment.
"I'm a greedy person. I don't have much experience with denying myself, and moderation isn't really a part of my vocabulary. So you might be content with a little more of what we started, but I'm going to want a lot more than that. Do you think that will be a problem?"
There's something that few men can resist, and that's a blatant challenge. "I'm an Italian man in line to lead a large mafia organization. Stephanie, there's nothing you could want that I wouldn't want to give you. And this particular request is definitely something I can guarantee won't be a problem."
"Then maybe you should ask the driver to turn on some music," she suggested.
"Why?" I wondered, slightly insulted that I wasn't enough to set the mood for her.
"Because I'm not exactly known for being quiet, and if you're not all hot air with that guarantee, then I'm pretty sure you're going to want some background noise to cover up what's going on back here."
My hand instantly went to the call button for the driver, and as I all but told him to be sure he wasn't listening in order to protect our privacy while we were doing all kinds of unseemly things in the back of the car, I heard my father's warning that the right woman would change everything about your life and you wouldn't care. At the time, it didn't seem possible, but as I eagerly broadcast my private business to an employee of my father, I couldn't help but notice there was a big smile on my face.